Found
by aquaesulis
Summary: The final installment of the Charlotte Parnell trilogy. Six months after the fall of Voldemort, Charlotte searches for a miracle and hides from her past
1. Chapter 1

_a/n__: Sorry for the delay in getting this out, it's proving the proverbial prickly pear (how's that for alliteration?). Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Please read and review!_

Found

(The third and final story in the Charlotte Parnell trilogy)

As per usual, anything you recognize belongs to J. K. Rowling. I'm just here for the food. (and as an impoverished student, I have very little to offer would-be litigators)

_In your world, you're alone in your face. ___

_You're alone in your world, you're alone in your face. ___

_How you said you never would leave me alone, oh. ___

_How you said you never would leave me alone. ___

_Never before, never again, ___

_You will ignore, I will pretend.___

- the Cranberries "How"

She bent her head over her bag, searching for the keys she knew were hidden in its depths. A sudden blast of cold air sent goose bumps running up her exposed neck and she reached her hand up to touch her hair. The cut was a week old but she still wasn't used to it. It was a chin-length bob that her friends and coworkers called "cute." She didn't think she'd go that far. She had walked into the salon and asked for a change and a change was what she got. It hadn't been this short in years—Severus had always liked her hair long. _Of course, that hardly matters anymore. _

            By the time she reached the parking garage a light drizzle had begun to fall from the night sky. Her Vespa was untouched as always, courtesy of a few complicated wards that made the scooter invisible to any would-be thieves. Charlotte had always wanted a Vespa; it had been her first purchase after securing the job at the Ministry. With the help of avid Mugglephile Arthur Weasley she had made a few "improvements." Usually, however, she preferred the feel of the pavement under her on the short trip to her flat. Her colleagues in the Ministry couldn't understand why she needed the Vespa in the first place, and why she insisted on parking it in a Muggle garage all day. Aside from the fact that repeated shrinking and resizing seemed to have an adverse affect on complicated devices like scooters, Charlotte was used to the idea of a commute. Commuting to work gave her a chance to people watch, and it made her feel normal, a feeling that had been in short supply in recent months. Of course, the real reason she liked to ride home from work especially was that it prolonged the inevitable, the heavy security door slam that signified she was once again all alone. 

            Unlike some others, Charlotte had sunk into relative anonymity following the defeat of Lord Voldemort. She had been awarded the Order of Merlin Third Class for her service, but so had anyone who had shown up to the last battle on the side of good. She hadn't been there when The-Boy-Who-Continued-to-Live had dealt the final blow, she had been coordinating the wounded and helping the Ministry contain the impact on the Muggle settlements near Godric's Hollow. That was how she came by her present job, newly appointed Minister of Magic Weasley knew he needed someone who understood Muggles to help him navigate the days ahead, and he knew that Charlotte was the one for the job. She had no real desire to be there for the final showdown, and she had been told in no uncertain terms by her husband that it was off-limits. She sighed, feeling the raindrops land on her hair and skin as she cruised through central London. Getting married had been her idea. It was stupidly sentimental of her, but she didn't want to face what might be the last day of their lives without committing to paper that they belonged to each other forever, however long that might be. Especially if it wasn't very long, she wanted it known that she loved him, no matter what he had been in the past. He had acquiesced and with only Professor McGonagall as a witness, they were married in the Headmaster's office by the man himself. Dumbledore had stowed the magical contract way, promising to make it publicly known whatever the outcome of the fight to come. Following their first kiss as man and wife, he had promised her that, if they survived, they would have a real wedding. She accelerated through an intersection. _So many promises.___

            For the most part, her flat looked like any other in the building. She had no television, but she did have a computer. It was spartanly finished, but that was because she had no real desire for it to resemble a home. It wasn't her home; it was just where she lived. Spread over the small kitchen table were piles of books more suited to a museum exhibit than the bright fluorescents of her modern apartment. Putting down her bag and keys she returned to where she had left off the previous evening, searching for something that would bring him back to her, make him himself again—anything to combat the ugly truth that he no longer needed her. She pulled up her chair and started flipping through pages. The next thing she knew, the clock on the wall began to chime. Looking over, she saw the words 'TIME TO EAT' illuminated in red script at the top of the face. The other quarters had similarly helpful messages like 'BED TIME,' 'GO TO WORK,' and 'TEA.' The clock had been a flat warming gift from a former student who understood how all consuming an important project could be. The fact that she was rarely hungry didn't really matter, she was smart enough to know that she needed to eat. She microwaved something simple from the freezer and forced down every forkful before returning to her work. She had been researching for nearly three months with little success. Everyday, however, she kept looking. When she ran out of books, she went back to the library and found more. Severus had once called her a 'deluded optimist' – she certainly wasn't going to change now. Her ruthless search for an answer continued until the clock chimed again for bed.

***

            A young house elf, Nibby by name, scurried to answer the knock at the front door, now on its third attempt. They'd had no visitors many weeks and Nibby had not been paying proper attention. The house elf made a mental note to throw himself down the stairs later and pulled open the heavy wooden door.

            "I'm Ron Weasley," said the redhead who was waiting on the other side, "Is your mistress at home?" 

            Nibby sadly shook his head. "Nibby is sorry Ron Weasley, but mistress is not here."

"What about your master then, is he here?"

            "Master is here yes. But master is telling all the house elves that he is not to be disturbed."

            "I know he'd want to see me," said Ron earnestly, "I've brought good news for him!"

            The house elf's face brightened. "Good news for master? Master is needing good news! Come with me Ron Weasley!" Nibby led the gangly young man up the grand staircase and down a long hallway. They stopped in front of a door and Nibby tentatively knocked. There was no answer and the house elf seemed almost relieved. He opened the door and motioned for Ron to follow. The room was barren except for a large armchair and low table. One window looked out on the lake that bordered the manor. The chair faced away from the door, but a pair of long legs was stretched out in front, indicating that it was occupied.

            "Nibby has brought you a visitor, master. Ron Weasley! He has good news for you!" There was no response from the chair. Nibby gave a Ron half shrug and bowed himself out.

            The door latch caught with an audible click. "Well, Severus, how lovely to see you again," purred a voice of spun steel. Where Ron had once been now stood a smug Lucius Malfoy.

            Severus Snape leaned forward in his chair. "Lucius?" his voice was weak from disuse. The rest of him looked equally well taken care of, thick stubble lined his cheeks and his hair had grown long and stringy. Malfoy's lips curled at the sight.

            "It pains me to see the last of a noble wizarding family reduced to this state."

            Snape looked at him in confusion, "Thought you…dead." he forced out.

            Malfoy turned from his inspection of the window. "Oh no, I survived. No thanks to you of course." His voice turned harsh. "The great Severus Snape, one of the Dark Lord's favorites, a potions master beyond equal, a traitor to the cause all along." He laughed, "and look where it has gotten you. Alone, with only your pathetic house elves for company, unable to save your dear Headmaster, unable to even keep your filthy mudblood wife happy." He smiled cruelly as Snape's head jerked sharply at the mention of his wife. "Oh yes, I know you married her. Even in my recent forced exile I still had access to that information. I suppose it is too late to offer my congratulations."

            "Told her to leave," Snape replied with effort.

            "Of course you did Severus. But you see, I am most desirous of finding her. We have some – unfinished business." He paused, searching Snape's face for further reaction. "Where is she?"

            "I don't know."

            "Really, Severus, you seem most inept at looking after people." Lucius was amused. "Never fear, I will find her and her broken body will be the herald of my return and the rebirth of the Death Eaters." He leaned in close to the sunken figure in the chair. "And when I have finished with her, I will have you publicly hung as befits a traitor." Like a coiled snake, his silver headed cane flashed out and made sudden, forceful contact with the side of Severus' face. Lucius sneered. "I will be sure to give your regards when I see Mrs. Snape." Suddenly, Ron Weasley returned. "What do you think of the disguise? You should be honored, I would not adopt such a shabby appearance for anyone less." The lofty tone ill-suited the redhead and with a laugh he was gone. Reaching up a trembling hand Snape touched his bruised cheek. The blood that came off on his fingers consumed his whole attention until it was too dark to see.

***

            By all rights, her full name was Dr. Charlotte Louise Parnell-Snape. However, the few wizarding friends she had were too tactful to use her married name, and her Muggle postman could hardly remember her flat number, let alone what she was calling herself these days. Wizards, while awarding doctorates, did not really have much use for that title in the academic realm. There were a few of her former students around the Ministry who called her Professor Parnell out of habit, and Charlotte admitted that she actually found it rather comforting, when it didn't remind her of why she had this naming conundrum in the first place.

            No one doubted that the last few months had not been easy for Charlotte. They had not been easy for anyone. The initial jubilation at Voldemort's defeat six months ago had faded into a somber relief, tinged with grief for all the good witches and wizards lost to the fight. Chief among those who had given their lives to the war was one Albus Dumbledore, beloved headmaster of Hogwarts. Few knew what had happened that fateful day in Godric's Hollow. Flanked by Harry Potter, Dumbledore had led only four others into the last fight: Hermione Grainger, Ron Weasley, Sirius Black and Severus Snape. Six heroes went in - only five emerged, tight-lipped and spent. They had not been very forthcoming about the events of the battle, which did nothing to endear them to the Ministry or the wizard press. Yes, Voldemort was defeated, no, Dumbledore had not survived was the only information that could be pried from them. The Ministry had talked vaguely of performing an inquiry but nothing came of it, the general populace preferring to imagine the Headmaster's heroics rather than seeing them splashed across the front page of the Daily Prophet. Long-time media darling Harry Potter unfortunately received the brunt of the public's interest along with his godfather, whose sad story of false imprisonment and redemption caused many a young witch to sigh meaningfully and clutch their copy of Witch Weekly to their chest. Severus, and by extension his new wife, were able to escape much of the public's attention. Any number of reporters and Ministry officials still had vivid memories of their potions lessons, choosing to avoid Snape rather than face those demons again. In the end, Charlotte was glad of the anonymity – it made the weeks afterward far less complicated.

***

            Charlotte was fidgeting restlessly with a quill when there was a tap at the window. A sturdy barn owl was waiting outside with a sizeable package. She absently showed the creature to some food and water before picking up the quill again. Not pleased by this careless treatment, the owl nipped her on the finger before flying away. Charlotte tried to focus on her mail, a series of public service announcements made by the American Department of Magic about the dangers of improper Muggle handling, but the words swam before her. She had been very close to a possible solution when the clock had chimed for work, and only an innate sense of duty and her respect for Arthur Weasley made her leave the books and go into the office. She could hardly wait for the end of the day, but time seemed to be moving more slowly than normal. There was a commotion outside her door, and she went to investigate, glad of the distraction.

            Beyond the door the Ministry offices were in an uproar, everyone talking at once, rendering Charlotte unable to understand anything. There was new strain in the air – something was wrong. At last Arthur came striding down the hall, followed by several Aurors. The room went abruptly silent.

            "The Dark Mark has been seen outside the Muggle town of Ely. I am dispatching people to the scene immediately," he said, gesturing to the robed wizards behind him. "Tell nothing to the Daily Prophet, they will be given a full report as soon as I have more information." He looked across the sea of pale and worried faces and smiled weakly, "There is no reason to suspect that this is anything other than an isolated incident – the work of a former Death Eater with delusions of grandeur. Voldemort is part of our history and will remain so. I ask you to continue your work and refrain speculation. Thank you." The crowd dispersed back to their desks and offices, somewhat relieved. Arthur was a popular Minister, unlike Fudge before him, and his staff trusted him. He might be a little over-interested in Muggle affairs, but when push came to shove he knew how to focus on the serious matters at hand. It was a valuable talent that the majority of his children had inherited. Charlotte made to return to her office, but Arthur stopped her. "Charlotte, I'd like you to accompany the Aurors to Ely. I don't know what you'll find there, but there may be some Muggles who saw what happened. Find out what you can and then –" he coughed delicately "expunge their memories."

            Charlotte nodded. Destroying a person's memories wasn't exactly a pleasant prospect, but it had to be done. "Of course sir." She grabbed her cloak and followed the Aurors to the apparition point.

It seemed inappropriate that this business should be conducted under a clear and cloudless sky. As Charlotte understood things, Death Eaters preferred the cover of darkness for their activities. The Aurors speculated that this must be the work of someone who wanted to attract the attention of the Ministry. The green skull still hovered over the small farmstead like some single-minded firecracker. A small slightly hysterical witch was pacing in front of the site, oblivious to the growing crowd of Muggles behind her.

            "Someone get rid of the Mark and get that witch calmed down!" Charlotte didn't recognize the barking voice that came from the group of Aurors, but she knew the man on sight – 'Mad Eye' Moody. As a special favor to Dumbledore and Arthur, Moody had temporarily rejoined the Aurors as their leader as the war came to a head. Now that the fighting was over, no one was going to remind him that he could retire – he was just too valuable. At his command his staff sprang into action. Charlotte and the remaining Aurors moved forward into the home. The door was hanging open, and the group advanced cautiously, wands at the ready. It looked like the occupants had been preparing a late breakfast, a teakettle was whistling incessantly and a pan of sausages was beginning to burn on the stove. Charlotte quickly levitated the pan off the head and shut off the gas, no need for a fire to further impair their investigation. They walked through to the living room. Sitting in two armchairs, facing a television still playing the morning news, was a man and a woman, clearly dead. Charlotte had seen her fair share of casualties during the last few years, but to see these two, who had done nothing, who had been murdered for no reason at all, with know knowledge of who or what had killed them was somehow more awful than what she had seen during the war. 

            One of the Aurors stepped forward and examined the bodies. "The Killing Curse, sir," he said to Moody.

            The older wizard nodded and gruffly dispatched to Aurors to help Charlotte interview Muggle witnesses while those that remained would look for clues inside the house

            Interrogating the Muggles proved expectedly useless. No one had noticed anything unusual until the green skull appeared over the farmstead. It was just too easy for a witch or wizard to conceal themselves. Charlotte did manage to obliviate all memory of the Dark Mark and the troop of Aurors that had descended upon the house. It was well into the afternoon by the time the Muggle medics removed the couple from the scene. Heart failure was the announced cause of death, which seemed to satisfy everyone who didn't know the truth.

            "Whoever it was obviously knew what they were doing," Moody said later in Arthur's office. "Nothing was disturbed and nothing was left behind."

            "The mediwitch reported that both bodies had been exposed to the Crucatius and the Imperius," said one of Moody's junior officers, consulting his notes.

            "Then we can almost guarantee that there was more than one Death Eater in the house, one putting on a show for his companions." Charlotte felt slightly ill thinking of a group of Death Eaters tormenting the poor Muggle couple for sport.

            "But who? And why did they select Ely as their target?" asked Arthur, rubbing the bridge of his nose. 

            "That we don't know. I've got my people checking the records and tracking down suspects. We'll find them."

            "I have every confidence in you, Alastor. We just have very little to go on at this point. I'm afraid of this incident creating a mass panic. Voldemort may be a memory, but he is still a very powerful specter in the minds of our countrymen." The others in the room nodded. "I will tell the Daily Prophet that it was an isolated incident. Keep me apprised."

            Charlotte kept her cloak on the rest of the afternoon. She just couldn't seem to shake the chill that had followed her from Ely. She had assumed, foolishly apparently, that there were no more Death Eaters - that they were all either dead or locked up tight in Azkaban. Even those with sympathies were laying very low at the moment. _Don't be naïve, it's not that easy to get rid of evil, said the cynical voice in her head. "Who said it was easy?" she muttered. _Please. The First World War had a hundred times more casualties. Just because you lost two special people is no reason to think that you fought in the war to end all wars. _"Get stuffed," she told the voice, and tried desperately to concentrate on the materials from America._

***

            The sound of miserable sniffling and the feel of a cold flannel on his face pulled him back into unwelcome consciousness. At his side was Nibby dabbing at the wounded cheek in between pitiful hiccoughs. When the house elf saw his master watching him, he jumped back with a squeak.

            "Nibby is sorry, Master! Ron Weasley said he had good news for Master, Nibby had no idea that he would hurt Master!"   

            "Wasn't Weasley," Snape slurred, "…Malfoy."

            The house elf seemed to have trouble processing this information. "But Nibby thought that Malfoy was dead."

            "Apparently you were mistaken," Snape replied with a faint trace of his old asperity. 

            Nibby resumed his ministrations. "What did Malfoy want with Master? Master fought against You-Know-Who and Malfoy." There was no response from the chair. "Master, please!" The little elf was desperate, "Don't go away again! Stay and talk to Nibby!" But the weak light in Snape's eyes was gone, and he seemed to shrink back into his chair. Nibby finished treating his master and turned away. "You are needed, Master. The house elves need you, Mistress needs you, Hogwarts needs you." Silence reigned in the small room and the elf went away without another word.

***

            Charlotte had wanted a distraction, but a murder was not exactly what she had in mind. Nevertheless, before she knew it, it was time to retrieve the Vespa and head back to the flat. As she rode through the busy streets the gloom that hung over her began to dissolve into anticipation. Waiting at home was her research and the answer to her problem. 

It was her misplaced optimism that told her that her research would make everything all better again. _What's the good of finding this miracle potion if you can't get him to take it? Assuming that you can even get in the door. She asked the part of her brain that was already visualizing her success. _He didn't exactly leave a light on for you. _She would have to simply find a way. Beneath her cloak and robes, protected by an anti-tarnish charm, lay the proof that he had once loved her more than anything and that he one day could again. Although the necklace never left her person, the hope often did. Sometimes in the dark she could only hear the loathing and revulsion in his voice as he told her to get out and never come back. _

They had returned to the manor on the evening of "the great triumph" as it came to be known, exhausted in every way possible. She had left Severus in the study saying, "I need a bath." She hoped that all the things she was feeling would wash off with the dirt, but such was not the case. Charlotte could only think how strange it was to be sitting in a tub piled high with bubbles when only a few hours ago she had been involved in a war. The movies never showed what happened after the victory beyond the glorious ride off into the sunset. Watching the foam froth around her she was suddenly struck by the fact that Albus would never enjoy another bath, which was a pity because the old wizard had been quite fond of them. He'd even developed a special bubble solution that smelled like lemon drops, his favorite Muggle sweet. She spent the rest of her bath sobbing, the harsh sound bouncing off the tile walls and making her ears ring. At long last, having quelled both the tears and the dry heaves that had followed them, she had dried off and wrapped herself in a thick robe. Padding back to the library she saw that Severus had not moved. 

"Do you want to talk?" she had asked.

"No," his reply had been very clear. She wanted to crawl into his arms and hide, but there was something in his manner that gave her the impression she would not be welcomed there. He was so closed off. Charlotte couldn't even begin to imagine what he was feeling, what images were seared on his brain. 

"Alright love," she kissed his forehead, "I'll be upstairs staring at the ceiling if you need me." He hadn't replied, and when she awoke the next morning there was no indication he'd even come to bed. He was still in the library, the only change a nearly empty bottle of fire whiskey. "Severus, have you been up all night?"

"Yes." He didn't appear drunk, not that she had ever seen him drunk, but a third of the whiskey he'd had would lay her flat on her ass.

"Would you like me to get you something to eat?"

"No." Not even when they had first met had he been so cold and distant. She tried to be patient, she had the house elves bring him food, muttered the occasional cleaning charm over his head, and generally did her best to make things comfortable. He remained fixed in his chair, glass in one hand, slowly folding in on himself. He said little and did nothing, spending his days in contemplation of the fireplace. It made her heart break to see him this way, and after a week she took matters into her own hands.

"Severus you cannot stay in that chair for the rest of your life!"

"Why not?" he asked coolly.

"Because it's killing you! We've all got to move on, continue living, make something of this world that so many good people died for." She fidgeted helplessly. "I don't pretend to know what you're feeling, but whatever it is we can get through it together. Just tell me what you need."

At this point he looked up at her, as if just noticing she was there. "What I would like," he began slowly, talking as one would to a small child, "is for you to leave."

Her shoulders sagged. "All right. I'll bring you some dinner later."

"I think you misunderstand me. I would like you to leave my house."

Charlotte looked at him in confusion. "What are you saying? This is my house too."

Severus rose from his chair and drew himself to his full height. "Get out!" he thundered. Charlotte cringed, he rarely yelled. Her upper arm was suddenly wrapped in an iron grip. Severus dragged her through the house to the front door and threw her out on to the portico. "I have no desire to see your face ever again!" The door slammed shut, leaving Charlotte on the ground in a heap. Her heart was racing. Surely he hadn't meant it, he was just dealing with his grief. She decided that maybe it was in her best interests to spend a night away from home. The thought of facing his ire again made her shake. She returned to Snape Manor the next morning after a sleepless and tear-stained night at the Three Broomsticks. After a minute of standing awkwardly at the front door, she knocked.

Milly, one of the older house elves, answered the door. When she saw who it was, her normally cheerful face fell. "Oh Mistress, Master is telling us not to let you in. He is having us pack up all your things." She pointed to a trunk just inside the door. Charlotte could only blink at the little creature. "Milly is sorry, Mistress, but you must go now." The house elf moved the trunk out beside her mistress and turned away, beginning to sob. Once again Charlotte was face to face with her own door. After a moment of indecision, she ran around to the windows that looked into the library. He was still sitting there, as though nothing had happened.

"Severus!" she yelled, banging on the pane. The man gave no indication that he had heard her. She kept banging until at last he stood up and walked out of the room. A moment later Nibby was at her side telling her she had to go. She had gone, reluctantly, but she was back every day that week. Severus had never spoken to her again, but increasingly teary house elves continue to tell her that she was not allowed in. She had begun to slide into depression, an unhappy state that was averted by the appearance of Arthur Weasley at the Three Broomsticks with a proposition for her. Charlotte had accepted the job with a new plan forming in her head. At the Ministry she would have access to resources that would otherwise be unavailable. She could research, and find something to help Severus. Six long months had passed since she was ejected from the manor. There had been no communication from Snape or any of the house elves and Charlotte found the idea of paying another visit too painful to contemplate without a cure in hand. With a very Gryffindor tenacity she had focused her efforts on the research and at last she had found an answer. She studied the page before her carefully. It was a complicated potion, well beyond her grasp, but she knew one person who could prepare it and not ask too many questions. The clock chimed for bed and Charlotte enjoyed a peaceful sleep for first time in months.


	2. Chapter 2

The Vespa touched down on the shoulder of the A40 in the shadow of a large tree. Charlotte turned off the invisibility drive and within seconds was just another driver on the roadway headed into the thriving city of Oxford. She was glad her route did not take her past New College and Queen's Lane, she was certain she would break down completely if she had to see the exact spot where her magical adventure began. It was bad enough to be going back to Sortilege. The last time she had visited Oxford's wizarding college had been for her own graduation. Albus had taken the liberty of inviting the entire faculty to the ceremony, partly because they all wanted to come but mostly because it gave Snape an excuse for his erstwhile master should the question of a Death Eater's attendance at a mudblood's graduation arise. She remembered him standing in the back, a solitary raven – stern, but so proud of her. Charlotte pushed the memories away and parked her scooter outside the Botanical Gardens.

Even in the middle of a chilly, drab autumn, walking into the gardens was like having a little piece of spring in front of you. There was always something in bloom and the air was fresh with growth. Without hesitation she walked directly to the back of the old walled garden, casually looked around and then stepped into the wall.

She entered Sortilege's anteroom and went straight to the young witch sitting at the reception desk. "I'm looking for Hermione Grainger, is she in the building?" The witch consulted a piece of parchment and informed her that Miss Grainger was in the laboratory on the second floor. Charlotte thanked her and proceeded through the massive set of wooden doors opposite the garden entrance. Beyond the dimly lit and claustrophobia-inducing anteroom, Sortilege looked like many of the other colleges or even Hogwarts itself, all old stone and narrow windows. The staircases were at least stationary, and she made it to the lab without incident. It was a huge room filled with rows of ingredients and materials and a solid wall of books at the back. Hermione stood over a simmering cauldron slowly adding a pink liquid to her already vile colored solution. Charlotte was again struck by how much the girl had grown up. Time had lengthened and straightened her hair and it was now piled in a tidy bun at the top of her head. She had grown up – if not for the smattering of freckles across her nose and that look of intense concentration, Charlotte might not have recognized her.

Snape had trained his wife well, and she waited patiently for Hermione to finish her work and look up. At last the girl turned down the flames and noticed her visitor. "Professor!"

Charlotte smiled at the surprise and pleasure in her former pupil's voice and gave Hermione a hug. "Now now, I haven't been your teacher for a while, call me Charlotte?" There was the old Hermione, who wasn't really comfortable with the idea of teachers having first names, let alone using them.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to you actually, is there somewhere we can go to catch up?"

Hermione took Charlotte to the student common room, a cozy place with overstuffed sofas, study tables and even more books. They made themselves comfortable in front of the fire and Hermione conjured them each a cup of tea.

"How are you enjoying Sortilege?"

"It's wonderful! I'm learning so much, all the students are big bookworms like me, and the teachers know so much-" her enthusiasm was like a runaway freight train and she stopped herself quickly with a grin. "It's great."

"I'm told you're studying to be a potions mistress." Hermione nodded. "I've got a project that's right up your alley."

***

"Where did you get this?" was Hermione's first question after studying the parchment she had been handed.

Charlotte shrugged, "I've been through so many books in the last six months I can't keep them straight. I can owl you the title when I get back to London."

Hermione looked up suddenly, "This is for Professor Snape, isn't it?" Charlotte resisted the desire to snap, "of course it is, who else would it be for?" and simply nodded. "I don't know much beyond the rumors I'm afraid. It might be helpful to know the whole story – specifically his symptoms – to make sure this potion will do what you want it to."

"…It's like he's in some kind of coma. He doesn't speak or move, he's completely retreated into himself." 

"Grief is different for everyone." Hermione began uncertainly.

"I know that, but this is too much! It's been six months, I'm not going to let him die of it!"

"What we saw in Godric's Hollow was not pleasant, for Snape especially. I can understand his extreme reaction.

It was Charlotte's turn to be hesitant. "Hermione, what happened that day?"

The girl sighed. "The Headmaster sacrificed himself to save Snape." She conjured a pot of tea and refilled both their cups.

"Severus thought the world of Dumbledore." Charlotte said softly.

"Didn't we all," the younger woman replied with a sad smile. "Apparently Voldemort was not aware of Snape's treachery, he was rather shocked to see his potions expert on the wrong side of the last battle." She allowed herself a small, feral smile before continuing. "Dumbledore attempted to reason with Voldemort, telling him that there was no chance of evil succeeding, but Voldemort was beyond any kind of reasoning at that point. The news of Snape's betrayal enraged him. He had gotten cocky enough to believe that no one would dare turn away from him and what he could offer. He launched himself at Snape, intent on throttling him. Ron, Harry, and Sirius managed to pry his bony hands from Snape's neck before he could cause any lasting damage. Somehow he threw off the three of them and pointed his wand at Snape. Without any preamble, he used the Avada Kedavra." Hermione shuddered. "Everything went into slow motion. Dumbledore stepped into the path of the curse, in front of Snape. Even the headmaster wasn't strong enough to fight off the killing curse. Sometimes when I close my eyes I can still see him crumple to the ground. Harry was so angry, he charged at Voldemort with the Gryffindor sword swinging. We'd all been given special dispensation to use the Unforgivables and Ron and I tried to use Crucatius but he dodged them. It was Snape who thought of using the Imperius to make Voldemort stay still long enough for Harry to drive the sword through his heart. Sirius used the killing curse as insurance before we torched the body."

Hermione looked up at Charlotte for the first time since beginning her narrative. "It wasn't particularly glamorous, but then I suppose these things rarely are. We all crouched around Dumbledore's body afterwards, hoping against hope that he'd suddenly open his eyes and offer us a humbug. None of us could look at Snape, although we didn't exactly blame him. Dumbledore made his choice to walk into the curse – it was the sort of thing he did. He always valued our lives and the cause far above his own. Snape said nothing, he just looked rather shocked."

"Probably surprised that anyone would consider him to be worth dying for," Charlotte muttered bitterly. "Certainly there is motivation for his comatose state, but it's not healthy! I'll send him to every therapist in London if I can just have him back!"

Hermione studied the parchment again. "_Smarati Zama_," she mused, performing a translation spell, "'He remembers peace of mind.' I think this may work."

***

Charlotte started up the Vespa in relatively good spirits. Hermione was confident that she would be able to prepare the _Smarati Zama_ without any difficulty. Charlotte would return to Oxford within the week with any ingredients that Sortilege did not posses and serve as an assistant to the future potions mistress. She unlocked the flat door and was greeted by the sound of wings flapping against a window. Attached to the rather disgruntled tawny's leg was a terse message from Arthur asking her to contact the ministry urgently. A murmured spell and a handful of Floo Powder and Arthur's head was poking into her living room.

"Ah Charlotte, at last." 

"What's up Arthur?" she asked the disembodied head.

"There's been another Death Eater attack." 

Charlotte paused in the act of feeding the tawny and the owl nipped the treat from her hand impatiently. "Oh, Arthur, this is not good."

"Don't I know it," the minister replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know it's late, but can you go out to the site and help the Aurors out again? You were splendid with the Muggles last time, and I need as many brains on this problem as possible."

            Within ten minutes Charlotte had joined Moody and his Aurors at the site. It was another small Muggle settlement, a seemingly random location. At least this time it was night. The victims, another couple – this one much younger – were still spinning lazy circles in the air.

            "Finite Incantatum!" growled Moody and the Muggles dropped to the ground, clearly dead. The head Auror was not pleased. "I want answers now!" Once again Charlotte took care of the Muggle spectators who were completely useless. She returned to the house to see the bodies taken away. Only she and two of the more normal looking Aurors remained, finishing up the investigation report. A muffled sniffling suddenly disturbed the quiet of the house. Startled, the three drew their wands. The rest of the house had been given a cursory investigation and it was with caution that they followed the sound to one of the back bedrooms.

            "Lumos!" The room was bathed in pale light. The space clearly belonged to a child, a girl judging by the stuffed animals and dolls. They heard the noise again, almost a sob. Against one wall of the room was a large oaken armoire, intricately carved with flowering vines, Charlotte was almost certain it was from in there that the sound came. Flanked by the Aurors she flung the doors open to reveal a young girl balled up on the floor of the wardrobe, she was crying.

            Charlotte put her wand away and crouched beside the girl. "Hello there. I'm Charlotte, and this is Bryson and Penny," she indicated the Aurors behind her. "what's your name?"

            "Tamara," she girl whispered, wiping her wet cheeks.

            "That's a pretty name," Charlotte said soothingly. "Tamara, sweetie, did you see what happened here tonight?"

            The girl, who couldn't have been more than five or six, nodded. "Those strange people hurt mum and dad. I was so scared. I hid in here but they found me."

            Charlotte and the Aurors exchanged a worried glance. The fact that the girl was still alive after being found by the Death Eaters was highly unusual. "Can you tell us what happened when they saw you?"              

            "I thought they were going to hurt me too. The man in front stopped the others. Then he pulled back his hood so I could see his face."

            "Do you remember what he looked like?"

            "Like a ghost! He was all white!" Tamara replied emphatically, but when pressed could not provide any further details.

            "Did he say anything to you?

            The girl nodded. "He said 'be sure to tell them you saw me, I'm sure they've missed me' and he laughed – he didn't seem like a nice man. They slammed the door and left." Tamara looked up at Charlotte with wide eyes. "Did I do something wrong?"

            Charlotte fought off the acrid tang at the back of her throat and the heavy lead weight settling in her stomach. "No, sweetie, you did nothing wrong, you've been a great help"


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Welcome to part 3! As all of Charlotte's adventures took place in a Potterverse bounded by what we knew from Goblet of Fire, I have decided to continue that construct rather than trying to alter everything to what we now know to be "reality" from Order of the Phoenix (Charlotte's adventures being a bit AU to begin with). So, that means no spoilers for anyone for isn't done yet! _J _I hope you enjoy this next chapter in the saga! _

_Thanks as usual to my long suffering betas Lockholm, Branwyn, and JoyfulGirl!_

***

            It was not in the nature of house elves to countermand the orders of their master families. Thus the Daily Prophet was still delivered to Snape Manor even though it had not been read in months. Nibby put it on Master's breakfast tray and took it away again, untouched like the carefully prepared meal that accompanied it, at lunch. Nibby knocked tentatively at the door of the tiny upstairs room and entered balancing a well-laden tray on one hand. Once the meal was set down, the elf approached his master cautiously.

            "Master, is you reading the Daily Prophet today?" There was no response from the chair. "Nibby is taking the liberty of reading the front page article before bringing it to Master. Nibby has already slammed his head in the oven for punishment." The house elf rubbed his wide forehead before continuing. "Mistress was in the front page today. There is being another Death Eater attack last night." He retrieved the paper and placed it on Snape's lap, pointing to the picture that showed Charlotte walking hurriedly away from a house carrying a young child.  **MUGGLE WITNESS SURVIVES DEATH EATER ATTACK, the headline proclaimed. "Master, Nibby is thinking that this is connected to Lucius Malfoy. Mistress is in danger, and she is not knowing it yet! Master must save her!" Snape slowly turned his head to look out the window, giving no indication that he had even heard his house elf. Nibby's eyes filled with tears. "Oh Master, we is missing you and Mistress so much! We cannot let Lucius Malfoy hurt Mistress." There was no response from the chair. With a sigh Nibby collected the breakfast things and left, leaving the paper with Snape. It was only much later, when the setting sun cast an orange glow in the tiny room, that the shaggy head bent towards the Daily Prophet and the story contained within.**

***

            Charlotte walked into Arthur's office holding on to her paper coffee cup like a life preserver. She looked over at Bryson and Penny and saw that they looked as lifeless as she felt. She at least held the magic of caffeine and sugar in her hands. In her association with the wizarding world, Charlotte had yet to find a potion that was as effective and tasty as a café mocha. Penny, who was Muggle-born, eyed the cup with longing until the meeting began. The events following the discovery of the child were related to the minister. They had taken Tamara to St. Mungo's for examination. Presented with a clean bill of health, Charlotte had spent a large portion of the early morning hours with the girl, going over the events of the evening and attempting to reassure her that things would be all right. At last the girl was taken to a Muggle hospital where relatives would claim her. Charlotte pitied the poor girl, losing both her parents in such a fashion. How dare the Death Eaters use little Tamara in such a way? But Death Eaters had very few scruples when it came to Muggles.

            "The Malfoys are dead!" blustered Moody, once Bryson had finished his official report. "This must be some ruse!"

            "Are we certain Lucius and Draco both died during the conflict?" Arthur asked.

            The Aurors in the room exchanged a nervous glance. "Draco's body was identified in Godric's Hollow. Lucius perished in the fire that destroyed the Riddle House. Human remains were found beside the snakehead that topped his cane. It was impossible to definitively identify anything that remained," Moody replied reluctantly.

            "So he could be alive?"

            "Everyone saw him go into the house, no one saw him leave," said Bryson.

            "But what could be gained by someone posing as Malfoy?" Charlotte wondered, "It's not really in the usual Death Eater playbook to reveal one's identity to ones victims…it makes even less sense to reveal a false identity."

            "We've been too complacent following the war," answered Moody, testily, "They are making a point. It is as I have always said, Minister, constant vigilance is the only –"

            "Yes, yes Alastor," Arthur interrupted, not unkindly, "Your feelings are well known. But Charlotte makes a good point, why would someone pretend to be Malfoy. For the time being I suggest we assume Tamara Bright did indeed see Lucius and proceed accordingly. Alastor, I need you and your people to find out everything you can about where Malfoy has been, what he's done and what he's after. Quickly, if you please – We don't need anymore Muggle deaths this week." The Aurors were dismissed but Arthur held Charlotte back.

            "If it is Malfoy, he will certainly seek you out. We should put the necessary precautions in place. I will speak with the Department of Creative Cartography directly."

            "Yes, Arthur."

            "Be careful Charlotte, that's all I ask."

            "Of course, but I'm not about to let Malfoy keep me from getting my work done."

            "A Ministry girl through and through, eh?" Arthur asked with an amused glint in his eye.

            "Something like that."

            Charlotte disposed of her coffee cup and headed down to street level and the shops of Diagon Alley. A small horned owl had been waiting for her when she returned to the apartment early that morning bearing a list of the things Hermione would require. It didn't take long to buy the supplies—the lab at the college had ample quantities of most of the ingredients. As much as she respected the owl post, she decided that it would be better for all concerned if she took Hermione's parcel by hand. _The Ministry owes me half day anyway, after last night. _Charlotte collected her Vespa and was soon soaring over the countryside on her way to Sortilege. 

            Hermione had been doing a great deal of study on the _Smarati__ Zama and the prospect of working on such an unusual and ancient potion had turned her into a raving potions geek. Severus had been the same way (if less demonstrative) the thrill of working with and refining a potion out of the common way was one of his favorite parts of being a potions master. While Charlotte usually felt that a love of learning was its own reward, Hermione's excitement did much to reassure her that the potion would work as hoped._

            "Preparation of the potion should begin under a waxing moon, which fortunately for us occurs starting next week. Following that the potion is pretty simple – but it must be consumed before the next new moon."

            "No worries there!" said Charlotte, with feeling. She looked at her young friend and sighed. "Have you been following the recent Death Eater attacks?"

            Hermione nodded. "I've had a subscription to the Daily Prophet for quite some time now. I saw you found a young girl at the last site."

            "One of the Death Eaters showed his face to her. The Ministry has reason to suspect that the person Tamara saw was Lucius Malfoy." Hermione's eyes grew round. "I must ask you to keep this information to yourself. If it is Lucius, he will be looking for me. It is too long a story to go into now," she added hastily, preventing the question forming on Hermione's lips. "If, for whatever reason, I cannot take the potion to Severus, I need you to administer it. Don't go alone, but please make sure he gets it.

            Hermione nodded slowly. "Of course I will." She chanced a sly grin. "I've got to follow my research through to the end!"

            Charlotte squeezed the girl's hand and smiled. "Hermione the scientist to the rescue!"

***

            Lucius rolled the head of his cane between his fingers in contemplation. On the whole things were going well. Those Death Eaters who remained had joined him, and recruitment continued among those who looked kindly upon the Dark Arts. There had been little insurrection among the ranks, most accepting Voldemort's second-in-command as leader of the new revolution. Those who dared question his authority were met with swift retribution. Lucius knew he was not as powerful as the Dark Lord, but his Avada Kedavra was effective enough, which was all that really mattered. His army was growing; soon the time would come to bring wizarding Britain to its knees. In the interim, however, he would take care of some personal business. 

            Clearly Harry Potter would have to be destroyed, having not only vanquished Voldemort, but Lucius' beloved son as well. Snape was also a popular choice among the legion, but Lucius had special plans for the turncoat. No, first would be that meddlesome mudblood Charlotte Parnell. His informants knew she worked for Weasley at the Ministry. She lived in a section of Muggle London and rode around on a preposterous looking Muggle machine, but beyond that…. Her flat had been rendered Unplottable and her ministry file was restricted to top-level personnel. Charlotte was making it very difficult to be found, but find her he would. Thanks to her, he, a Malfoy, had been subjected to the indignity of a stay in Azkaban, the only thing keeping him sane his all-consuming loathing for Professor Parnell. Upon his release (an equally dignified escape courtesy of the Dark Lord), his grand designs for her murder were put on hold for the more noble work of Voldemort, but at last he would have his revenge.

            There was a tentative knock at his door. Chateau Malfoy had been razed during the course of the war, so he had established his headquarters at Crabbe Court. His old friend had no need for it, seeing as the majority of the family was dead or in prison. It was not to his taste—tile rather than marble and oak rather than teak—but it was tolerable. "Enter!"

            One of the younger recruits, Lucius couldn't be bothered to recall his name, slipped into the room. "My Lord, we have spotted the girl."

            "Where?" Malfoy asked, instantly alert.

            "She was seen leaving Oxford; we tracked down her wand signature."

            "Did you accomplish your mission?"

            In answer, the young man pulled a clear globe no bigger than a snitch from the folds of his robes. As it settled in Lucius' hands the crystal clouded and resolved into a picture of a sketched map of central Britain, with a blinking red dot moving slowly towards London. 

            "It will probably not function properly when she is protected by the wards around her flat or at the Ministry, but once she is in the open we can find her anywhere."

            "Excellent." Malfoy pocketed the crystal and stood. "The hour grows late, our revels will begin soon." An unpleasant smile marred his patrician features and the Death Eater followed meekly in his wake.

***

            Defense Against the Dark Arts professor Remus Lupin was conducting his usual hallway rounds when he heard the knock. It was far too late for visitors, the sky black outside the windows of the castle. The tapping came again, insistent. Lupin crossed the entranceway to the great wooden doors of Hogwarts and opened one fractionally, wand at the ready. At first he thought he must be imagining things, there was no one at the door. But a small voice directed his eyes downward to a young house elf.

            "Nibby must speak with the headmistress immediately!"

            An hour later Nibby was granted an audience with Headmistress McGonagall. Her hair was still pinned in rollers under a tartan cap but she was wide awake, which was more than could be said for two of the wizards who joined her. Deputy Headmaster Flitwick looked very close to nodding off, as did Professor of Potions Black, who had stretched his lanky frame out before the fire closed his eyes until Lupin thumped him on the arm.

            "Well Nibby," Minverva said kindly, "what is so urgent that it cannot wait for morning?"  
            "Nibby belongs to the Snape family," he began, wringing his hands. "I is not wanting any of the other elves to know I is coming here to I is waiting until they is all asleep." He gave a strangled sob and looked up with pleading eyes. "Nibby is worried about his Mistress! Lucius Malfoy is going to kill her!"

            The werewolf smiled gently at the elf. "Lucius Malfoy is dead, Nibby. He cannot harm your Mistress."

            "Oh no sir, he is coming to visit my master. He is being involved with the Death Eater attacks in the paper. Mistress is being in the paper too. Lucius Malfoy could kill her!"

            "Mrs. – Charlotte is in no more danger than any of the other people involved with the investigations, and we have no reason to suspect that Malfoy is anything other than dead. But," The headmistress continued, forestalling his renewed insistence, "I will speak with the Minister of Magic and see if he can offer more information."

            "Thank you Headmistress."

            "However, I'm not sure I see what you expect us to do with this information, why come to Hogwarts in the first place?"

            "Master and Mistress is both teaching here. They is liking Hogwarts, and is having friends here. Master cannot help Mistress now, and Nibby is hoping that Hogwarts friends would be able to help Mistress."

            "We like your master and mistress as well, and we will help them as we can. You'd best return home now, we wouldn't want you to be missed."

            "Nibby," Black began abruptly as the elf reached for the door, "How does your master?"

            Nibby's large eyes filled with tears and he shook his head slowly at Sirius. Without a word, he left. A depressed silence reigned in the room behind him.

            "Oh for just a hint of Albus' omnipotence," said Minerva wearily. "I won't wake Arthur now, but I will speak to him first thing in the morning."

            "But what can we do?" asked Flitwick.

            "I don't know, Filius, but if we can do something to protect Charlotte, we will."

***

            Charlotte restrained herself from contacting Hermione the first morning after the waxing moon began, but it was difficult to think of anything but Severus—unless of course it was Malfoy and the Death Eater attacks. She had hoped they had all heard the last of Lucius Malfoy, that she would no longer be a marked woman, in fear of her life. Before she had Hogwarts, Albus, and Severus to protect her, now she had nothing. _But I'll be damned if I let Lucius kill me before I get to see Severus again!  She thought, thumping her fist on her desk. _

            She tread water all day, trying in vain to engage interest in the work that lay before her. Muggle relations seemed trivial and pointless. Her flat offered no reprieve from her anxiousness. There was nothing to research, nothing to do. Arthur had asked her not to venture outside her confines of her building unless absolutely necessary so she spent a frustrating evening staring at the computer before spending a restless night staring at the ceiling until sleep got the better of her. All too soon the alarm clock woke her, and Charlotte swore that another day like yesterday would put her round the bend completely – she felt a nervous tic coming on already. She brought her Vespa into the ministry that morning and checked it with the young witch at the front desk. There had been another Death Eater attack overnight and the atmosphere in the office was very tense. Charlotte had not been included, Arthur said, out of concern for her safety. 

            "Besides, you weren't actually needed – the victims weren't Muggles." Charlotte shuddered, that certainly explained the strained vibe she was feeling. Malfoy had moved to the next stage, removing offensive wizarding families.  She spent most of the morning engaged in her new favorite activity, staring at the wall. When the tap at the window came she was so startled she nearly fell out of her chair. She let the small owl in and opened the message it bore with trembling hands.

It's ready

Come when you can.

HG

***

            _The potion is ready, that' doesn't mean it's going to work. She repeated this to herself any number of times during her journey, but the excitement couldn't be suppressed. She parked the Vespa outside the Botanical Gardens and went inside. Her cloak was in the scooter and she looked like any other Muggle in a long sleeve black shirt and grey slacks, eliciting no more than a second glance from the woman at the visitor services desk. Charlotte reached the gateway to Sortilege only to find it blocked by three figures in black robes. Any number of emotions vied for prominence in her head, chief among them annoyance and fear._

            "Sent here to do your master's dirty work boys?" she asked her voice carefully nonchalant.

            "On the contrary, Mrs. Snape, I far prefer to participate in this kind of 'dirty work'" The familiar silky tones made her flesh creep. He pulled back his hood and she was once again face to face with Lucius Malfoy.

            "Lucius, how lovely," she said dryly.

            "Always a pleasure, I'm sure," he purred. "But I must know what brings you to the garden."

            "A love of botany, naturally." Her mind was racing, looking for an escape route. "You?"

            "Nothing so pedantic, I'm afraid. I came here to kill you." Two curses streaked towards her and she dove behind a row of bushes, which promptly exploded in a shower of flower petals upon contact with the spells. She raced along the row, almost bent double, dodging curses.

            "_Alohomora__!" she cried pointing at the door to one of the greenhouses that spanned the length of the garden. A pane of glass shattered as she entered. She paused behind a shelf of terracotta pots to get her bearings. One of Malfoy's companions stood in the doorway, scanning for a Charlotte-like shape. "_Petrificus___ totalis!" she yelled, not waiting to hear if the spell hit its target. She bolted though the greenhouse to the far end. The coast was clear and the entrance and her Vespa were in sight. "__Comintiare__!" she waved her wand and the scooter's little engine sprang to life. She lifted off as Malfoy's hand closed around her ankle. She shook her foot leg vigorously to free it, kicking him in the face in the process (not that she minded), but he still held on. With her left hand she held the vehicle steady as she twisted around on the seat to get a good shot at the tall man below her. She nailed him with the Tickling Charm and Lucius collapsed to the ground in laughter, allowing Charlotte to speed off into the air._

***

            Sometime later Hermione entered the garden from the college and was greeted by a scene of minor destruction: singed bushes, overturned planters and broken glass. She didn't see Charlotte's scooter so it was a reasonable assumption that if she had been the victim of an attack she had been able to escape. Hermione felt the small vial in her pocket and ran back to Sortilege, she had to make a Floo call.

***

            She could see them in her side mirrors, two men in long black cloaks on brooms. _At least the odds are a little better now. Charlotte was relative sure that her scooter could outrun most brooms, but she couldn't stay aloft forever. She turned her invisibility control on almost immediately but somehow they could through it and had matched her movements point for point. If she was going to have to fight them, it would be on her terms – and as far away from Snape Manor as possible. _

***

            It had taken surprisingly little time to find Ron. He was working on his Auror training and helping out in his brothers' joke shop on his days off. It was there she found him, stocking Canary Creams. Once she explained the situation he Apparated immediately. Ron was fond of Charlotte, having survived an adventure to the 19th century at her side. Something that happened there had also endeared Snape to him, although he never said what. He was happy to accompany Hermione to Snape Manor. Their courage wavered a bit when confronted with the imposing Gothic main entrance, but Hermione knocked resolutely on the door. It swung open to reveal a house elf.

            "Hello, my name is Hermione Grainger and –" this was as far as she got before the elf caught sight of Ron. 

            His eyes narrowed angrily. "You! You is tricking Nibby and hurting master!" With a wave of his hand, Ron was flung backwards onto the ground.

            With a cry of "Ron!" Hermione rushed over to help her friend. "What did you do to this house elf?" she asked, pulling him up.

            "Nothing! I've never been here before!" Nibby advanced on them, the angriest house elf either of them had seen.

            "Wait! There's been a mistake!" Hermione said frantically. House elf magic was powerful stuff, especially when used defense of the people they were loyal to. She had to get Nibby to listen. "Please! We're friends of Charlotte, we've come to help your master, we mean no harm!" In the end it took several repeated uses of Finite Incantatum to convince Nibby that neither of them were Lucius Malfoy in disguise and that they were really there to help his master. At last he led the way through the house and up to the small attic room. In pained Ron and Hermione more than they expected to see their once domineering professor reduced to catatonia. 

            "It's like all the life and energy has been drained out of him," Ron whispered.

            "That's what this is for," Hermione replied, pulling out a cobalt blue vial.

            "How exactly does this Sama- Smara – thing work?"

            "_Smarati__ Zama, and as near as I can figure, it's like years of Muggle psychotherapy in a bottle. It's supposed to show all the good things in your life, the things worth living for."_

            "Well, bottoms up mate," Ron said, tipping Snape's lifeless head back so Hermione could empty the solution down his throat. She massaged his Adam's apple to get him to swallow and then stepped back, unsure of what to expect. Almost instantly he began to tremble, not violently, more like he was sitting in a chilly bath.

            "Hermione, how will we know when the potion is done?"

            "I don't know…maybe when he stops shaking? All we can do now is wait and see."

***

            A bright white light suddenly exploded in front of him and he flinched. He had been in the dark, and this glow was so intense as to be painful. Slowly the light faded (or did his eyes adjust?) and he saw a frail looking man hunched over in a chair, eyes vacant, face unkempt. He looked old, nearly dead. With a sick lurch, he realized the man in the chair was him. Severus Snape reduced to an empty-headed invalid. He turned away from the man in the chair and was presented with another image. Again he had difficulty recognizing the figure, at last remembering it was Charlotte. But it was Charlotte as he had first known her, new to the world of magic, facing down her own fears and the specter of Lucius Malfoy. He saw himself teaching her, which faded to images of him teaching other students, another satisfactory set of O.W.Ls and N.E.W.Ts. He saw a younger Snape in Dumbledore's office, confessing his dealings with the Death Eaters and asking forgiveness, the happiness in Albus' eyes as he gave it. He was presented images of the decent things he had done as spy, easing suffering where he could, saving lives when possible. He stood shoulder to shoulder with The-Boy-Who-Lived and his friends, to fight the Dark Lord and win. Snape could only see the fallen body of his leader and mentor, who had died to save him. Without warning he was no longer watching the memories like a Muggle movie, he was back in Godric's Hollow, the stench of burnt flesh and death heavy in the air. Albus lay on the ground, face frozen. But the old wizard did not bear the look of fright or surprise that marked most victims of the killing curse. Rather he looked at peace, even smiling faintly. 

            "Do not mourn me, Severus. We none of us live forever." He was startled to see another Dumbledore standing above him. 

            "You died protecting me. I believe I am entitled to a certain amount of guilt. I would rather you sacrificed yourself for Potter, he probably deserved it more."

            "It was my choice, Severus. No one made me protect you but me. I had a good run of things and I was perfectly well aware that I would not return from that battle. Furthermore," Albus continued, looking sternly over his half-moon spectacles, "what use are you making of the life I saved? I did protect you so that you could sequester yourself in a room for the rest of your life, driving away friends and family." Godric's Hollow vanished and Snape was again an observer. He saw Charlotte crying herself to sleep over and over again. Something in his heart stirred to see her in such pain. "She lives for you, Severus," said Dumbledore, "You need each other." Snape turned away from the image. "Do not dishonor my memory; do not dishonor your own. You have many years left ahead of you. I cannot promise they will be easy years, but they will all be yours. Let go of your grief, of your guilt. Trust in my judgment, and the judgment of the ones who love you." The headmaster's blue eyes twinkled, "If nothing else, think of your professional pride – I hear they have Sirius teaching potions in your absence."

            "That is hardly funny, Albus." The picture had changed to one of Charlotte laughing.

            "Perhaps not, but it is true," the old wizard smiled. "I have always been proud of you Severus. Now, I think it is high time for you to awaken." The white light began to dominate his vision again, blocking out both the image of Charlotte and the form of Dumbledore. 

            Someone was talking, far away. "Look, he's stopped shaking!" The white light came into focus, a painted wall in a room he did not recognize. Three shapes were standing over him, looking anxious. 

            "Professor, can you hear me?" Severus put a hand to his head and blinked twice.

            "I assure you Mr. Weasley, my hearing is perfectly adequate, there is no need to hover." 

            Ron grinned at Hermione, "Sounds like it worked to me." Nibby promptly burst into tears and hugged his master's leg, unable to speak. 

            "Nibby, I would greatly prefer to not be wearing my clothes when they are washed," Snape told the elf sternly, causing Nibby to sob harder. "What the devil are you two doing here anyway?"

            "It's rather a long story, sir. There is a lot to explain."

            "Stories must wait!" said a strident voice from the doorway. It was Milly, trying hard not to cry herself. "Master is needing food, a bath and a haircut!" 

            Ron eyed the elf with trepidation. "Maybe we'll wait a little bit. You've only just come to after all." And he propelled Hermione out of the room as the elves set upon their master.

***

            Somewhere in the South of England Charlotte found what she was looking for. It looked like it might have been part of a farm at some point, but for many years it had lain fallow, allowing tall grasses and shrubs to spring up around the crumbling stone wall that had once marked the property line. She started a sharp decent, heading toward the ground as fast as she dared, trying to get some extra time to reconnoiter before Malfoy and his goon touched down. The Vespa hit the ground with a jolt, rattling Charlotte's teeth and bruising her tailbone. She put some distance between herself and the Vespa before ducking behind a convenient bush to wait. Within moments she saw them dismount near the Vespa. A well-timed Impedimenta froze the other Death Eater in mid-stride. Charlotte vacated her cover before Malfoy's retaliatory curse struck.

            "Hey Malfoy, why don't we put the wands away and fight like gentlemen?" She dodged a Jelly-Legs Jinx. "I know I've been itching to punch you again."

            "I think not, Mrs. Snape." He was advancing on her position, deflecting everything she threw at him. There was no cover to her left so she dove back to the right. "Run as long as you like," Lucius said, "You are not leaving this field alive."

            "Sure she is!" a voice said cheerfully. "_Petrificus__ totalis!" Lucius' body seized up and he toppled to the ground. Someone grabbed Charlotte around the waist and the field vanished._

            They reappeared in Hogsmeade. She saw with relief that her captor was Remus Lupin. A moment later Sirius Black Apparated beside them.

            "Sirius, Remus! Impeccable timing as usual."

            "Thank you madam," Sirius replied with a gallant bow. 

            But Lupin was looking at Charlotte in concern. "Something's not right. Sirius, can you smell it?" Black obligingly turned into his animagus form and sniffed at Charlotte. Within a moment he was pawing at her neck. Lupin reached back and pulled something from the base of her neck.

            Black retuned to human forma and peered over Lupin's shoulder to look at the small square of material. "What is it, Remus?"

            The werewolf shook his head. "I'm not sure. It's organic, that's how I smelt it. My guess is its some kind of tracker – so Charlotte's friends could keep tabs on her."

            "That explains why they could see through the invisibility drive on the scooter," said Charlotte, annoyed. Remus dropped the square to the ground and muttered "_Incendio_." The material burst into flames and quickly turned to ash.

            "How did you two know where to find me? Unless there's some other tracing device I should know about."

            "We did it the old fashioned way; we followed Malfoy" Sirius replied with a charming grin."

            "One of Snape's house elves came to see us the other night. Minerva decided that someone should keep an eye on you," Lupin added.

            "Thank you both, and thank Minerva. I really appreciate it." She turned to leave.

            "Hey, you're not rid of us yet!" said Black hastily, "Malfoy is still out there!"

            "I've got to go to Severus – Hermione may have administered the potion already."

            "What are you talking about?" The two men looked at each other in confusion.

            Charlotte made an impatient noise. "Come if you're coming, I'll explain later."

***

            She walked up to the door and knocked. If felt like her whole body was shaking. Six months of work came down to this. For a moment Charlotte thought she might vomit but then Nibby opened the door, distracting her."

            "Mistress! Nibby is not seeing you for so long!"

            "Hey Nibby. These are my friends, Sirius and Remus. Can – can we come in?" 

            The house elf hesitated, but then flung the door wide. "Two of Mistress' friends are being here too, Hermione Grainger and Ron Weasley." Hermione and Ron waved.

            "Where is he?" Charlotte asked. Hermione pointed past the grand staircase to the long hallway leading to the solarium. The sun still shone brightly through the windows, shadowing the figure at the end of the hall. She took a hesitant step forward, waiting for this world to shatter. A voice she knew better than her own breathed her name and Severus stepped into the light.


	4. Chapter 4

With that one word, something broke inside her. The anxiety churning below the surface now bubbled up into tears of relief. Her legs buckled and she fell to the floor, sobbing, not caring about her knees bruising on the tile floor. The observers at the doorway watched in awkward silence as the former potions master moved slowly down the hall and knelt in front of his wife. Four humans and one elf let out a breath they didn't know they'd held as Severus wrapped his arms around Charlotte.

            Charlotte felt somewhat silly to be sobbing hysterically on the floor but every time she thought she might be able to stop she'd inhale his scent or hear the murmur of his voice then her throat would constrict and the waterworks would intensify.

            "I'm sorry," she managed to sputter between sobs, "I'm just – I can't –"

            "I know," he answered hoarsely, "but at this rate our guests may think you aren't pleased to see me." She accepted the proffered handkerchief and took a shuddering breath. 

            "I probably look a fright," she said, wiping her eyes.

            Severus shook his head, "Not at all. Although…" his voice trailed off and he studied her appraisingly. 

            "What?"

            "You cut your hair." Charlotte's hands flew to the ends of her bob in horror and her husband chuckled. "I like it." She grinned stupidly at him and they stood up, only to be ambushed by Nibby who hugged at their legs and bawled. The four humans seemed to simultaneously all have something in their eye. Disentangling themselves from the house elf, the couple approached their audience. 

            Charlotte immediately went to Hermione and hugged her fiercely. "You're amazing, thank you."

            The girl blushed. "You were the one who found it, I just put the ingredients together." She smiled hopefully at Snape. "But the _Smarati Zama has not been administered in decades, it would be very useful to know more about how it affects the recipient."_

            "That, Miss Granger, is a highly personal matter," Severus replied with some asperity.

            "Besides," Lupin said before the girl could protest, "we have more urgent matters to attend to right now." He looked at Charlotte, "Lucius will trace you here eventually."

            "Lucius?" Severus asked, concerned.

            Charlotte sighed, "I had a bit of a run in with Malfoy on my way here. Sirius and Remus saved my life, again," she added pointedly and her husband grudgingly thanked his old school mates. "I hate to ask this of you," she began, "but will you help to make the house ready for a potential attack?"

            "Of course," Lupin replied, "Severus, what wards do you have in place currently?

            Much later that evening, after Malfoy-proofing the manor and filling Severus in on the major events of the last six months, husband and wife were left alone. Sirius, Remus, Ron, and Hermione all insisted on standing guard, but tactfully retreated to the kitchen when ordinary conversation ran dry. The couple had got to the study and now sat facing each other from the ends of the leather sofa.

            "Charlotte, I apologize," Severus said at last, "I've treated you very poorly, even by my own standards of behavior." It was easy to push aside the sleepless nights, the worry and agony and to forgive him now he was whole again. "I have seen death many times, more gruesome ones than Dumbledore's. Rarely, however, have I had much feeling for the departed." He sighed, as though the exhalation would open the walls so long in place around him. "Albus was the source of my redemption. He trusted me when no one else would. He asked me to risk my life for him, for the cause, and resume my role as a Death Eater. I did so willingly, glad to be of use to him. He sacrificed himself for me, believing me more valuable to this world. Yet in all the moments leading to his death, it was not his safety I was thinking of but yours. If we were to fail in our mission, what would become of you? I was prepared to give my life for yours, just as Albus gave his for mine. It was not grief I felt but guilt. If my thoughts had been directed elsewhere, would Albus have survived? Even now, I feel that the world got the wrong end of the bargain. Guilt turned to anger, mostly directed at you for serving as a distraction. You were a painful reminder of what I had lost and I could not bear it.

            "Then I was alone with my guilt. It was my fault that Dumbledore was dead and I did not feel adequate to the task of living with that knowledge. Those six months are a painful blur. But you, with the help of Miss Granger," he conceded, "have rescued me. While under the influence of the _Smarati Zama I saw Dumbledore. Whether an abstraction from my memories or something of his spirit I don't know, but he showed me what you have suffered and told me," he looked away from her and cleared his throat, "he told me that you lived for me." He looked back, his eyes alight with emotion. "I am certainly not without failings, but know this: I live for you. It was you, your devotion that brought me out of my stupor. If you let me I will spend the rest of my life attempting to show you the same devotion._

            Charlotte was fighting back tears. "Of course I will! I didn't go to all this trouble just to let you go again!" She pulled him to her and in short order they removed to the comfort of their bedroom.

***

            She awoke some time from the best sleep she had enjoyed in months. Snape was sitting on the edge of the bed stretching experimentally. Charlotte was tempted to tease him as she would have a year ago, but his presence was still too new and she didn't trust herself to do much more than blubber at him. So instead she kissed his cheek before padding off in search of a bath and food.

            Hermione and Remus were at the breakfast table, reading the Daily Prophet and sharing a pot of tea.

            "Ron and Sirius have gone to fetch your scooter," the werewolf said amiably as Charlotte entered. Milly appeared at her elbow with a welcome plate of food. "Oh, and these came for you and Severus," he added, handing her two envelopes bearing the Hogwarts seal. She fingered the heavy parchment, wondering what they could contain. Severus came slowly until the breakfast room, hair still damp. Wordlessly, she handed him his envelope and watched him rip it open. He scanned the contents quickly and then tucked it into the folds of his robe. Charlotte's letter was an offer to return as professor of Muggle Studies for the following school year.

            "Minerva can wait," Severus said, in response to her unasked question, "until after this is finished. I am certain she will understand."

***

            The previous night aside, Severus was still very weak from the long days of inactivity. Hermione, with assistance from Ron, prepared a restorative draught, ransacking the professor's supplies in the process. It was only by forceful coercion that Charlotte induced him to drink the mixture. He said nothing to Hermione and Ron, which they interpreted as meaning he could find nothing wrong with it.

            They all sat in the study to pretending to be busy but in reality holding motionless, waiting for the call to arms. Only Sirius looked eager for the chance. Charlotte could only look on the fight will relief soon it would be over. She had begun to wonder if Malfoy's temerity had been over estimated when a low chime sounded in the hall.

            "The perimeter alarm," Remus said in explanation, "someone is on the property." In the front hall they had installed a modified foe glass, which had now lit up to show the intruders. It was Lucius Malfoy, leading a small pack of Death Eaters across the grounds.

            "In the interests of preserving several hundred years of Snape family heritage," Snape ignored Black's derisive snort, "I suggest we go to meet them." They all nodded grimly. There was no time for melodrama. Charlotte raised her eyes to look at Severus. She didn't need to say anything, the expression on his face told her everything she needed to know.

            Wands at the ready, they ventured out onto the grounds. With her husband beside her and flanked by loyal friends, Charlotte was conscious of an unfamiliar sensation. For the first time in months she felt strong, she felt capable, and she felt ready to face an army of Malfoys, if need be.

            They met on the open front meadow, twenty feet apart. Lucius took in Snape's presence with a sneer. "Look who has rejoined the land of the living – an unexpected bonus."

            "Can it Malfoy, your first fight is with me," Charlotte said, leveling her wand at him.

            "So it is," he murmured, assuming a dueling stance. He cast expelliarmus immediately, but Charlotte was ready and dove out of the way. She retaliated with a full body bind that was neatly deflected. She knew that Lucius was the superior wizard, whatever his status as a human being. Her only chance was to outwit him as she had done years before, preying upon his arrogance and over-confidence to get the better of him. She doubted very much that Lucius would give her an opportunity to punch him again. _Might mar his precious noble face, she thought snidely. Another curse came her way and she took off at a run towards the pond that bordered the east wing of the manor. As she hoped, Lucius came after her and her companions stepped in to keep the other Death Eaters from following suit. __It's all up to me now. It was hard to think of Malfoy beyond 'the haughty wizard who wants me dead,' but in recent weeks he had impressed upon her through his actions that he was also 'the haughty wizard looking to be the next Voldemort.' Getting rid of him would save the world a lot of grief, to say nothing of her own pleasure._

            As she approached the shore of the pond she allowed her feel to get tangled in a protruding tree root, sending her sprawling, face first, in to the murky water. She pushed away from the edge, watching for Lucius' appearance. She could hear his laughter from the surface. Her lungs were starting to burn. _Just a little further, she pleaded. He stepped to the edge, careful to keep the hem of his robe dry. As soon as he leaned in to look for her, her hand snaked out, grabbed his ankle and pulled. Lucius was thrown off balance and toppled to the ground. With a speed born of years of early morning swim practice Charlotte was out of the pond yelling, "__Expelliarmus!"  Malfoy's wand flew through the air and into Charlotte's outstretched palm. She administered the leg locker jinx and stowed her wand long enough to snap his in half._

            "You are a moron, Malfoy," she said, dropping the pieces to the ground and grinding them under her heel. "Even I am not clumsy enough to drown in my own lake."

            Lucius seemed unconcerned with his predicament. "Now that you have me, what do you plan to do with me? There's no prison that can hold me, no jury that will convict me. I can get another wand, I can find more Death Eaters. You and your motley band will not stop us."

            "Wanna bet?" she asked, raising her wand.

            Lucius laughed again, a low cruel sound. "Oh Mrs. Snape, do you intend to kill me? Do you really have the courage to use an Unforgivable?" 

            Her wand hand trembled. She looked across the meadow to her husband and friends towering over the Death Eaters, who were bound and gagged. How many people had been hurt at the hands of this man? How many had been killed gleefully? He had laced her first year of witch-hood with fear and doubt. She thought of young Tamara, now an orphan, and her nerves became steel.

            "The world will be a better place without you," her voice was ice. "Go join your wife and son and leave us in peace." Lucius stared at her in sudden fear. Charlotte exhaled slightly, focusing her strength. "_Avada Kedavra!" With a flash of green light, Malfoy's body was still. Charlotte trembled violently and fought the urge to be ill. The others had not missed the display and they hurried to her side. She searched for Snape's face, not certain what she would see there. He gave her a slow nod, he understood. They all did. Severus, Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Remus, they had all seen death, all seen the war._

            "Take her back to the house, Severus," Lupin said quietly. "We'll deal with this." Snape directed his wife all the way up to the bedroom, where he conjured some tea and set her in a comfortable chair.

            "There will be a hearing, of course," she began.

            "Of course. But I find it unlikely that anything will come of it. Lucius was hardly a shining example of wizarding society."

            "But does that make my killing him excusable?"

            "No." He paused over his teacup, "But it does make it forgivable."

***

            There was an inquest, a month following Malfoy's death. The Minister of Magic, Headmistress of Hogwarts, and the Chief Auror all vouched for Charlotte's character. On the whole, Wizarding Britain seemed very relieved to be rid of the last of the Malfoys. She was stripped of her Order of Merlin, but allowed to rejoin the Hogwarts faculty and mold young minds. Minerva announced her retirement in the spring and Flitwick was selected as new Headmaster, with the reinstated Potions Master, Severus Snape, as his deputy. Severus submitted to his new position with customary ill grace, but Charlotte knew that he was glad to be back in the dungeons, terrifying first years with the Hogwarts Potions Laboratory at his disposal. 

            The knowledge that she had killed another human being hung heavy over her head, mitigated only by the fact that she had acted in self-defense and with the good of others in mind. She moved down to the dungeons to be with her husband and life returned to normal, or at least the level of normal expected in the wizarding world. On the whole Charlotte considered herself quite fortunate. She had her husband back – every caustic and disagreeable inch of him – and she was helping to eliminate the prejudices that made men like Malfoy and Voldemort possible. It was hardly what she planned on when she first set foot in England, but looking across the room at Severus, engrossed in some potions text and then back at her own lesson plans, she found very little to complain about. She had found a community to belong to. Moreover, she had found a part of herself. She was a witch and would be until she died.

            "Do you think our lives will become boring and predictable now?" she asked with a smile.

            Severus replied without looking up, "One can only hope."

FIN

a/n: At last! Here ends the saga of Charlotte Parnell. I hope you have enjoyed the ride. Thanks as always to my betas: Lockholm, JoyfulGirl, and Branwyn. 


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